


Hidden

by Sheheryar_Shahid



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Guilt, Magic is legalized, reasonable arthur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:08:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24065575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sheheryar_Shahid/pseuds/Sheheryar_Shahid
Summary: Ever since the Dolma, Arthur has been looking for more examples of magic being used for good and a young boy brought in for trial brings him an opportunity and some revelations that change everything he was ever taught to believe in.
Relationships: Gwen/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 28
Kudos: 172





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is mostly an introduction to what I want this to be about, which is how the lives of the citizens with magic were affected by the ban and the purge. Jonathan will play an important role as I continue the story.

Three knights and four guards. That was the security apparently needed to escort a single young boy, no more than fifteen summers old, to the throne room of the Kingdom of Camelot, bound in no less than three sets of chains: one binding his wrists, another his ankles, and, the third, a sickening iron collar around the boy’s neck.

The King and Queen of Camelot had always been praised for the grace with which they presented themselves in court: both always the embodiment of tranquility. Nothing ever disgruntled them. The most dangerous foe could not make them even flinch. The most ridiculous arguments did not disgruntle them. The most outrageous accusations, implications, and crimes did not bring forth their ire.

And yet there was no mistaking the horrified, almost disgusted expressions on their faces as they observed the scene before them. The court physician stood at the side with a carefully constructed blank look that had been perfected over the years as he watched the bruised and bloodied boy manhandled into the room. The King’s manservant and unofficial advisor stood behind the throne with a pained expression as the boy was forced onto his knees, the sound of his struggle and pitiful cries the only thing disturbing the eerie, fragile quiet that had settled over everyone present.

The Queen- a hand held over her mouth in horror at what she was witnessing- did not trust herself to attempt speaking without being sick or bursting out in tears so King spoke first.

“What is the meaning of this?!” his voice was laced with anger, his face flushed as he observed the cruelty taking place in front of his throne, by his own men no less.

The only knight brave- or stupid enough- stepped forward declaring, “The boy has confessed to great evil, sire, and has been arrested and brought forth on the charge of sorcery. I have already taken the liberty of _personally_ ordering the preparation of the pyre for tomorrow.”

Stupid enough, evidently. Or maybe just simply arrogant???

“I see”, the King’s voice could freeze the desert. “And who, pray tell, gave you the right to take such a liberty without my explicit consent!?”

That is all it takes to reduce the knight to a wide-eyed, stuttering mess, “I-well...Well, you see, sire…”

“And _why_ , may I ask, is the boy wearing chains? Why is he wearing a _collar_ of all things?”, his glare could melt the glaciers.

Another knight stepped forward this time, “It’s the only thing we could get on such short notice that could contain his magic.

Nobody but the King looked surprised at the accusations. Despite his own laws, he had not dealt with many magical cases in his reign, especially not with children and, as such, was unfamiliar with the inhumane manner sorcerers were handled once caught.

He immediately shot straight and painted a blank look on his features.

“Take that monstrosity off of him, _now_ ” he ordered through gritted teeth.

Everyone but those who knew him well looked shocked, even the boy on the ground.

“Sire?” one of the guards holding him asked uncertainly.

“NOW!”

The guard with the keys immediately rushed to unlock the collar and the boy seemed to melt in relief, as if he had been holding in his breath tensing his posture.

Which was probably the case since the inside of the collar had spikes attached to it.

Arthur clenched his stomach to avoid being sick. He could see the blood dripping out of the fresh wounds on the boy’s neck from the spikes in the collar. The collar that had been put on him for the sake of the law in _his_ kingdom. He was certain he looked as green as his wife sitting on her throne.

“What’s your name?” he asked the boy, kneeling down in front of him, ignoring the scandalized gasps from those around him.

The boy looked up in surprise at being addressed, as if he hadn’t expected to be allowed to even speak in his own trial, which did nothing to help Arthur keep his food in his stomach.

“Jonathan” his voice, at least, was strong and, though there was fear in his eyes, determination was clearly overpowering. The look in his eyes and the set of jaw was of a soldier going into battle knowing with certainty he wasn’t coming out alive.

“Well, Jonathan, do you have to say anything about these allegations?” ‘Please say it wasn't you, please say deny it…’

“I confess,” he said in a tone that left no room for argument. No quiver of doubt or fear in his voice.

Arthur felt like slumping down in his throne, knowing there could only be one outcome of this trial now.

“What was he doing that you caught him?” he asked one of the knights.

“There were strange flashes of light coming from inside his house, sire, so I went in to see if everything was alright when no one would answer the door and almost all the objects and trinkets in the house were flying around, sire. The boy immediately confessed when we confronted him.”

That surprised Arthur.

“Immediately?”

“Yes, sire. The boy probably got scared to see a knight in his home” this seemed to amuse the knight from the smirk on his lips.

Arthur couldn’t see a way out of this without havoc in the entire kingdom.

“Very well. If Jonathan has nothing else to say, I suppo-”

“One night,” the bot cut in.

“Sorry?” Arthur asked, even as a guard shook the boy for interrupting the King.

“Just- just give me one night, please. One night back at home without an escort. Just one night to… tie up some loose ends. Please. I’ll be back in time for the execution tomorrow, I promise. Just one night. Please.”

This was a first. The boy seemed incredibly desperate and Arthur didn’t see much reason to deny him. He couldn't escape the city in the night even if he tried.

“I will consider it.” Arthur held up a hand to stop the indignant squawking from the Councillors around him.

The boy sagged a little in relief on those words and the guards carried him away.

* * *

  
  


“Sire, you cannot allow this sorcerer out in the open. Who knows what kind of harm he is capable of doing!”

“He has been living in the lower town all of his life,” Arthur pointed out. “If he hasn’t attempted anything in fifteen years, why would he do so now?”

“Because he has nothing to lose! He has been caught already. He will do anything he can for revenge.”

And so they had been going back and forth for the better part of an hour. The councilmen were adamant that Jonathan could not be let out on the kingdom, as if he were some wild animal, and Arthur was arguing that point in the most peaceful manner he could.

Arthur had never been fond of the magic laws and all that they entailed, but he had never tried so hard to help a sorcerer either.

But when considering the sentence of a young boy who had done nothing but float a few harmless objects, all Arthur could think about was the Dolma. The old witch who had helped his wife and all she asked for in return was for him to give the persecution of her people more thought.

It just didn’t feel right to him to execute a young boy for… come to think of it…

“Why do you think he had been floating those objects around?” Arthur asked the council members gathered around him. “What could he possibly have gained? Why would he practice sorcery for _that_?”

The Councillors around him looked dumbfounded and Arthur realized this was the first time in court that a sorcerer’s intentions had come into question, which only hardened Arthur’s resolve to give Jonathan a chance.

It was Gaius that answered.

“If I may, sire, I don’t believe the boy could control what he was doing.”

And that… made no sense.

“What do you mean?” Arthur asked.

“Well, sire, it is possible the boy’s power had just made itself known and he had not yet learned to control it.”

Complete horror was creeping into Arthur’s heart as he slowly realized what that statement meant and if Guinevere's expressions were anything to go by, she was feeling the same. Arthur struggled to keep his own face blank.

“Gaius, what do you mean _‘made itself known’_?”

“Despite what you have been taught, sire, not all sorcerers have to learn magic to come into possession of it. Some do learn it but they are hardly dangerous as they can’t do much more than menial household tasks without exhausting themselves. Those with considerable power like Morgana or the other harmful sorcerers you come across are born with their powers. They just lay dormant until adolescence or, as is in most cases, adulthood.”

Gaius said all this calmly, in a tone that suggested such knowledge was well known and quite obvious and, from the unsurprised expressions of the old, weathered Councillors around him, it was.

The King and Queen, however, were utterly horrified. Their mouths were open and eyes wide, all court etiquette forgotten.

“Do you mean to say,” Arthur asked slowly, “that we have been executing people for almost _three decades_ for something they can’t control?”

The rest of the council still looked completely unaffected by this revelation that turned their rulers’ entire world was being shattered.

“Well, not all of them, sire, just… most.” Geoffrey clarified.

“And no one thought to tell me this?!” Arthur could no longer keep his voice level.

“The King was adamant you not know this, sire. He made everyone around you swear in case you sympathize with the enemy. One of your nursemaids was executed for telling you when you were young.”

The councilor said this in a matter of fact tone. Like this was your usual Tuesday morning, just a run-of-the mill situation. Not something which had resulted in the deaths of thousands of people.

“Excuse me.”

Arthur stood up and exited the room without waiting for a response, his mind racing a hundred miles an hour. He didn’t let himself think about the implications of these new revelations. What it would mean if all this was true.

He all but ran to the royal chambers, Merlin and Gwen right behind him. Merlin locked the door behind them when they entered.

Arthur stood with his back to the other two while Gwen sat down at the table with a glazed look in her eyes as if she couldn’t comprehend anything in front of her and Merlin stood at the side with his head bowed, the picture of a perfect servant, which showed just how dire the situation was.

“Did either of you know?” Arthur asked.

Gwen shook her head even though he couldn’t see her while Merlin replied with a simple “Yes”.

Two pairs of eyes snapped towards him.

“You _knew_?” Arthur asked.

Merlin nodded mutely.

“Why didn’t you tell me?!”

“I thought you knew!” came the defensive answer. “It’s public knowledge everywhere else, not a well kept secret.”

“God it’s no wonder all those sorcerers hated us. Of course they attacked us. We were killing them for something that wasn’t their fault! Why would my father do this?”

Merlin looked nervous, his mouth opening and closing like he didn’t know if he should say what he wanted to say.

“What?” Arthur was desperate for anything else to focus on other than the horrible guilt growing inside him, eating away at his heart.

“There’s something else you should know.” Merlin replied hesitantly.

“What?”

“Just remember that I only did it because I care about you. I didn’t want to lie to you but I was afraid of what would happen to you if you went through with it and I-”

“Merlin just spit it out” Arthur somehow knew whatever Merlin was going to say was not going to help with what he was feeling.

Merlin hung his head in defeat and replied, “Morgause never lied about how you were born. The spirit was manipulated to tell it in a way that would anger you but the facts were true. I only said she lied to keep you from killing your father.”

Arthur’s heart stopped.

Everything around him faded away and all he could hear were screams.

Screams of the people on the pyre he watched burn.

Screams of his citizens as they watched their loved ones lose their heads.

Screams of the druids he himself slaughtered on so many raids.

Screams of the children he orphaned.

Screams of the men and women he widowed.

Screams of the _innocents he murdered._

“Arthur?” Merlin called in a small voice.

“Get out” came the reply, eyes far away, not meeting his.

“Arthur, please, just-”

“LEAVE!”

Merlin stumbled back as if he had been slapped and solemnly exited the room, leaving behind a horrified King and Queen caught in the realization of how much pain they had caused.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur and Gwen think of a way to change the council's opinions on magic along with their own, and find their chance in Jonathan's plight as he rushes home to 'tie up loose ends.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the main part of the story, the idea that I actually wanted to write this on and these are the first original characters I'm working with so... hope you like it!!

“I killed them, Gwen” his voice was hoarse, broken and there were tears in his eyes but, for once in his life, he didn’t care.

He was a murderer.

His entire family were all murderers.

“I killed hundreds of innocent people to satisfy the guilt of one man.” his voice was breaking but he didn’t care- couldn’t find it in himself to care. “I killed so he wouldn’t have to deal with his choices. I’m a murderer. I killed in the name of my mother’s murderer. I killed infants, mothers, fath-”

“Enough, Arthur” his wife’s voice, too, was hoarse from so many tears shed but it was firm. “That wasn’t your fault. It was your father’s. He taught you the wrong beliefs and he lied to you your entire life. You are not to blame for any of this.”

Arthur had already started shaking his head before she finished.

“That doesn’t wash off the blood on my hands, Gwen. if only I’d stood up to him. If only I had known the truth. Merlin-”

“Is not at fault here” Gwen cut in sternly. “He did what he did because he cares about you. And he was right, you know. You were about to kill your father. There would have been no coming back from that.”

“I know,” he replied, despair evident in his voice. “But i just… I don’t know what to do.”

“Arthur,” her heart was breaking for her husband, “we all make mistakes. We all made some pretty big ones here in Camelot but... we can’t change that now. We can’t bring those people back so it won’t do any good to dwell on them”

Even as she said the words, tears were flowing from her own eyes as she went through every execution she had ever witnessed- some she even ordered- of who she now knew were innocents.

“The best thing we can do for them,” she continued “is not let their deaths be in vain. Make sure it doesn’t happen again. We have to free their people, Arthur. All those deaths might not be for nothing if the rest can live without fear from now on.”

“It won’t be easy” Arthur sighed, “it’s going to take a lot to convince the council and the people that every sorcerer they come across  _ isn’t  _ evil.”

She took his hand gently, “Why don’t you start with one?”

At his raised eyebrow, she continued “Jonathan?”

Arthur’s head snapped up, remembering the young boy that had been brought in a few hours ago. It was almost comical how much had happened since then. How much had changed.

“I’ll set him free of course. But it won’t be easy convincing the council.”

“I have an idea,” Gwen said thoughtfully. “He asked for one night before execution, right?”

“At Arthur’s confused nod, Gwen got up, opened the door and asked one of the guards to bring the prisoner from last week to their chambers.

* * *

  
  


“No”

Having a somewhat civil conversation with his wife and a non-shackled sorcerer  _ in his chambers _ . That was not a scenario Arthur had ever imagined himself in.

“But it is possible?” Gwen asked, back in her ‘Queen of Camelot” persona.

“Yes,” the sorcerer replied tersely. “But I will not betray my own kind this way. Especially not for the likes of  _ you _ .”

Both Gwen and Arthur flinched at the venom in his tone.

“I want to legalize magic,” Arthur stated unceremoniously.

The sorcerer's eyes widened and, for one second, something akin to hope flickered in his them before they narrowed in suspicion.

Arthur didn’t bother with his ‘King Voice’, as Merlin called it. He had a feeling it would do more harm than good. He poured all the overwhelming emotion he had experienced in the past few hours into his voice.

“I realized how wrong I have been. How many innocents I have slaughtered. How much harm I have done in my own kingdom. I have realized just how much of a liar my father was.”

The sorcerer’s posture relaxed slightly at the sour bitterness in Arthur’s voice and the tears of remorse in his eyes.

“Please,” he begged. “Give me a chance to rectify what I have done. If at any moment you feel like we are intruding on something which has no relation to our cause, you can stop.”

At seeing the sorcerer’s continued hesitation, he said “This may finally earn your people peace and freedom.”

The sorcerer’s eyes seemed almost painfully conflicted when he whispered, “Okay.”

* * *

  
  


“Sire, what is the meaning of this?!”

“That is a criminal of the worst kind.”

“That  _ sorcerer  _ isn’t even chained!”

“ENOUGH,” Arthur didn’t have the patience to deal with the council’s righteous protests at the moment. “You have all lied to me my entire life.  _ All  _ of you.”

He looked at Merlin at the emphasis and guilt bloomed in his stomach when the servant’s whole body flinched and fresh tears sprang in his already red eyes, which moved to the ground in shame.

“This man,” Arthur continued, gesturing to the sorcerer standing in front of them, “has very kindly agreed to scry for us.”

He held up a hand as almost the entire council opened their mouths to argue.

“We will be watching the young boy, Jonathan, who was brought in earlier and we will see what kind of nefarious activities he gets up to in the one night he requested.”

“No arguments!” he added when several mouths opened once again.

He sat down and gestured to the sorcerer, who turned to the large mirror that had been brought in. Night was quickly approaching and candles had been lit inside the throne room.

The sorcerer started muttering in a strange language that had everyone in the room but Gaius and Merlin (which was very curious indeed, Arthur noticed) tensing up.

Suddenly the sorcerer stepped back and everyone gasped as they saw the image of Jonathan in the mirror as the guard Arthur had ordered unlocked the boy’s chains and told him his request for the night had been granted.

They watched as the boy took one slow, disbelieving step outside the cell. Then another. When it became clear no one was going to stop him, the boy started running…

* * *

  
  


Jonathan couldn’t believe his luck. He had thought he would have to fight tooth and nail to get out of his cell for even one minute before his execution. But the King had been ‘merciful’ enough to grant him his wish.

He almost snorted. ‘Mercy’ he thought. He’d be lucky if anyone in Camelot even knew the meaning of the word.

But he didn’t stop to question how his release had come about. He didn’t have the time. He ran. He ran faster than he ever had before, his worn sandals slapping against the ground.

He reached his house in the lower town in record time, glancing around to see if anybody was paying attention to him. He slipped quietly inside and locked the door.

His heart was pounding in his ears but at the same time, despair he had never thought possible was threatening to overwhelm him, making everything seem darker, quieter than it had ever been.

The candles were almost completely melted but, never mind. He wouldn’t be returning here after tonight anyway.

He rushed to his desk and opened the top drawer. He took out the false bottom inside and grabbed the tiny bag full of green powder inside.

He took out a quill and a scrap of paper and messily wrote down _ ‘Tonight, back door. Now, please.’ _

He didn’t have time to light a fire so he sprinkled some of the dust on a candle flame and watched as it turned green. He burned the scrap of paper in the strange flame and hoped with all his heart that it had worked.

He then took a spare cloth and a bowl of water and quickly cleaned as much of the blood covering him as he could. He barely registered the painful sting of his wounds, especially on his neck where the spikes on the collar had dug in. He couldn’t do much about the bruises but he didn’t care much at the moment.

After quickly changing clothes and deciding he looked acceptably non-scary, he moved on to the part he had been dreading.

He moved the little cot out of the way and, taking the key from around his neck, opened the hidden trap door underneath.

He felt the almost unbearable pang of guilt, shame, anger and exhausting sadness he always felt as he looked down on the suffocatingly small space that could barely fit the tiny cot inside and the equally small girl on top of it.

“Well” he said to the empty room as the tears threatened to escape him already, “she was getting too big for it anyway.”

“Hey,” he called down softly. “Lizzie. I’m back. You have to wake up now.”

He reached down and she immediately jolted awake at his touch and he hated that, even at seven years old, she had learned a restless sleep to wake up at any given time in any situation.

Her blue eyes looked up blearily at him as she sat up and ran a hand through her hopelessly tangled blonde hair. Even in her less than presentable state, her hair a rat’s nest and drool dried on her chin, Jonathan didn’t think his little sister had ever looked more beautiful as she smiled up brightly at him, livening up the darkness surrounding her.

He tried to sear the image in his brain, knowing it was one of the last ones he would ever get to.

He helped her climb out of the small space and sat still as she frowned up at him, observing his bruises.

“You’re hurt,” she stated and proceeded to heal every wound on his face and neck by just running a hand on them. He went to stop her but remembered that everyone already believed him to be a sorcerer, so it didn’t really matter.

“It’s alright,” he told her, “nothing I can’t handle. You baby me” he pouted for effect.

She grinned up at him and the pain in his chest only increased as he thought about how he would never get to see that smile again.

“I have a surprise for you,” his smile grew genuine rather than comforting as her eyes lit up in excitement.

“But you said I’m not allowed to go outside. That it’s bad outside.”

He was sure physical cracks were appearing on his heart.

“I know,” he struggled to keep his voice steady, “ but I also told you that one day it won’t be, didn’t I? I told you that you would get to go out there and play and see the sun one day, right?”

At her slow nod, he continued, “Well, that day is today.” he mustered up some false excitement and from the slow smile on Lizzie’s face, he believed he succeeded.

“Okay, then” her grin was wider than he had ever seen it. “Let’s go!”

She made to move towards the door but he grabbed her and held her still in front of him, crouching down to meet her eyes.

“For tonight,” he explained, “You’ll have to go quietly, in secret.” At her frown he quickly added, “But I promise that tomorrow, you’ll be able to play and explore as much as you want.”

“ _ I’ll _ have to go quietly?”

She had always been too smart for her own good.

He swallowed down the lump in his throat without success. “I won’t be coming with you.”

“What?! Why?!” he flinched at her alarmed tone.

“Well,” he tried to think up a convincing lie, “one of us always has to stay inside. Since I am the grown up, you stayed inside all this time so I could go out. But you’ve grown up now too, haven’t you? So now you get to go outside while I stay inside.”

He willed her to believe his ridiculous explanation but didn’t think he succeeded from the skeptical look on her face.

“What will I do outside without you?” she asked petulantly. “I don’t know anything about anything out there.”

“Well, see, a very nice man is coming right now to take you outside with him. He’ll take you to a beautiful camp with really nice people, people who are special.”

“Like me?” she asked, her eyes wide with wonder and swallowed hard again.

“Yes, exactly. People like you. And there will be other kids like you too who you can play with and the grown ups there will teach you how to do new tricks with your power. You’ll live in a big field inside a big tent and you’ll never have to go inside again. But…”

Her eyes were wide with excitement and his gut twisted painfully at what he was going to tell her next but he had promised himself he wouldn’t lie to her. Not about this.

“But I won’t be coming with you. And you’ll never be able to come back and you’ll never see me again.”

He didn’t succeed in keeping his voice steady this time and no matter how hard he tried, stubborn tears of unbearable sorrow sprang to his eyes.

All the joy and excitement drained out of Lizzie’s eyes and he loathed himself for being the one who did that.

“No” she stated firmly, shaking her head for good measure. “I’m not going anywhere without you.”

He tried to stop the tears from trailing down his cheeks as he replied, “You have to.”

“Is this because I was bad?” she asked in a small voice.

He felt his eyes go wide with the horror that filled his heart.

“No, no, no- of course not” he assured her quickly.

He kept his eyes steady on hers as he continued, “You have never been bad,” he told her firmly. “You have been so good for all these years. You have followed the rules and you’ve stayed inside even though I know how much you hate it. And you’ve tried your hardest not to use your powers even though I know it hurts.”

The tears were running freely down his face now. “Do me a favour, would you?”

She nodded, tears in her own eyes.

  
  


“ _ Never _ apologise for doing magic.” her eyes widened at his request, which hurt him to think she believed it was wrong to be the way she was.

“Never apologise for being yourself, Lizzie. Never apologise for being who you are because there is nothing to apologise for. You are wonderful, beautiful, kind, smart, and stronger than any person I know. You have nothing to be sorry for, okay?”

She nodded mutely. Then, “are you going where mama and papa went?”

He hadn’t planned on telling her this. He knew she wasn’t stupid. That she had figured out quite a lot of things just from the conversations she heard from under the windows but he felt like he owed her the truth here.

“Yes” he answered sagely.

She immediately pounced on him, pulling his neck in a death grip. He wrapped his arms around her tiny, starved waist in return and buried his face in her hair to hide his tears.

“It’s because of me, isn’t it?” her voice was wavering but she was trying to be strong for him. “I’m sorry.”

He pulled back to look her in the eyes.

“What did I  _ just  _ say?” he asked sternly. “Never apologise. Never for this. None of this is your fault, you hear me? None of this. You have done nothing wrong. Everything wrong that happened, happened  _ to  _ you, not  _ because  _ of you, okay? Never doubt that. Never think such nonsense again.”

His tone left no room for argument and just then a quiet, almost imperceptible knock was heard on the back door.

Jonathan shushed and pushed his sister behind a wall that would hide from view.

He cautiously opened the door to reveal a dark, cloaked figure. The figure pushed up his sleeve to show Jonathan a tattoo of a triskelion.

Jonathan’s posture relaxed and he opened the door wider to let the figure in, who dropped his hood once safely inside to reveal a dark-skinned man with an old, kindly face.

“I got your message.” he said in a deep, gravelly yet somehow soft voice. “Is everything alright?”

“You once offered Lizzie a place with your people years ago. Does the offer still stand?”

Neither of them mentioned the tightness of his voice, the wetness in his eyes, and the death grip the little girl had on his hand.

“Of course,” the man replied kindly. “We will always help those in need. May I ask what compelled you to change your mind.”

“A fire will be lighting in the main courtyard in the morning.” Jonathan replied tersely with a pointed look in Lizzie’s direction.

The man’s eyes widened.

“But how did they-?”

“People in high places saw some things that couldn’t be explained away and I confessed.”

Brow now furrowed, the man continued, “But you’re not even-”

“But she is.” Jonathan cut in sharply.

He took a deep breath.

“Now, we don’t have much time,” he said in a matter-of-fact tone, ignoring the almost unbearable pain in his chest, Lizzie’s soft sniffling, and the look of pity in the man’s eyes. 

He ignored all of it, choosing instead to focus on the task at hand.

“I have her things packed already, just in case,” he said, retrieving said things from under a loose floorboard. “And… well, I guess you know the way out better than I do.”

The man nodded and took the pitifully small amount of belongings from his hands and hesitated.

“I’ll give you two some time to say goodbye.” he said softly, shooting a sympathetic look over his shoulders before exiting.

“I won’t go.” Lizzie said immediately. “You can’t make me.”

She started shaking her head desperately.

Jonathan took a deep breath, willing himself to hold together for a few moments more, just a few moments more…

“I’m sorry, Lizzie,” his voice sounded broken, no matter how hard he tried. “You have to. There’s no other way.”

She was still shaking her head.

He slowly crouched down to meet her eyes.

“For me?” he asked softly.

Her face scrunched up and she let out a heartbreaking sob as she flung herself at him, holding on for dear life.

“Shh, shh. It’s okay, it’s gonna be okay,” he comforted her, his own tears running trailing down his cheeks without any inhibitions.

The pressure in his chest felt physical, like someone’s fist was squeezing his heart with inhuman strength but he refused to break down. Not now.

“Will I see you again?” she asked once the sobs had subsided in a small voice.

“Of course,” he replied thickly with a watery smile. “I’ll be waiting for you with mama and papa and I’ll have your favourite soup waiting for you when you get there okay?”

His whole body threatened to give out at the simple thought and the small, sobbing laugh that followed.

“Okay.”

And with strength he didn’t know he had he led her towards the back door with a hand on her shoulder and opened it to the man waiting outside.

“We’re ready,” he informed the man.

He took another deep breath even though they didn’t seem to be helping much and looked the man in the eyes.

“Just... take care of her. Please” he couldn’t say any more.

The man’s eyes turned sympathetic but with steely resolve in them. He gave Jonathan a respectful nod of his head and laid a hand on his shoulder.

“You’re a good man,” he said and took hold of Lizzie’s hand, who was looking up at Jonathan with pleading eyes that would haunt him for the rest of his extremely short life.

He knelt in front of her and cupped both sides of her face.

“Never change, okay?” he told her.

She nodded.

“I love you,” he whispered softly.

“I love you too,” she replied and before he knew what was happening, she was slipping out of his arms and hurrying out into the black night, just a small, black shape moving through the shadows.

He was left there, kneeling on the floor, whispering “I love you more,” to the empty, cold night air.

* * *

He stood up in a daze and moved inside, closing the door and stood in the empty house for a few minutes before it all came crashing down.

She was gone.

She was gone.

She was gone, she was gone, shewasgone…

And she wasn’t coming back.

A painful sob escaped his body and then he couldn’t stop.

They landed like punches.

They wracked his body, leaving nothing behind.

He couldn’t comprehend what was happening. All that he knew was that his only family, his little sister, all that he had left… was gone.

They didn’t stop.

He grabbed his stomach, clenching it tight, hoping the pain would lessen.

It didn’t.

He fell to his knees, his legs couldn’t keep him upright anymore.

He didn’t know how long he sat there as waves of sobbing passed through him, wrecking him, destroying everything in their wake.

He ended up curled up on the floor in a ball, completely and utterly spent.

He lay there, knowing he would have to get up soon, but not having the energy to do so.

His entire body felt limp, like he wouldn’t be able to move it even if he tried.

Despite his execution being hours away, he already felt dead.

* * *

It was either minutes or hours, he couldn’t tell, before he got up and exited the house. He moved in a daze through the town to the back: the graveyard.

He moved through to the end, to a hidden, dark part of the cemetery that no one paid attention to.

Here two roughly shaped headstones stuck out of the earth.

These headstones were illegal. These graves were illegal. The remains under this earth were supposed to be thrown unceremoniously in a large, dirty cavern. But the man in charge had taken pity on him and let him bury his parents in secret. He had even said a prayer or two and clapped a young, ten year old Jonathan on the back before leaving.

Present day Jonathan sat down in front of the headstones and pulled his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms around his legs.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice hoarse and broken. “I’m sorry I couldn’t take better care of her.”

Fresh tears sprung to his eyes.

“But I promise she’ll be happy now. She might miss us but she’s free now. She’ll be happy.”

He didn’t know who he wanted to comfort but he wasn’t convinced it was working.

Suddenly the warning bells started to ring, bringing the light of dawn around him to Jonathan’s attention. He had taken longer than he had intended. His time was up.

He didn’t want to risk the guards searching for him and finding Lizzie, however unlikely that might be, so he quickly got up, dusting himself off, and took one last look at the headstones.

“I’m coming, mama. I’m coming papa.”

And with fresh, hot tears trailing down the sides of his face, Jonathan turned around and ran as fast as he could to the citadel.

His feet slapped on the pavement- he had forgotten to put his shoes back on. It didn’t matter. They would’ve burned anyway. Maybe someone could make good use of them now.

He reached the citadel just as the guards were gathering around some knights to receive their orders.

“I’m here!,” he shouted. “I’m here, I’m here.”

He paused to catch his breath, raising his hands above his head.

“I’m back.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a conclusion to tie it all up.

The sorcerer stumbled back with a sharp gasp, heaving long, deep breaths desperately as if he had almost drowned. The man had been keeping up a difficult spell for the entire night so Arthur didn’t really blame him.

He would be frightened of someone with that kind of power but, then again, he had a feeling Merlin stepping forward and placing a hand on his shoulder in the middle of the night when he had started sweating. Which was very curious indeed because not only had the man shot straight as if he had been electrocuted but he hadn’t faltered again the rest of the night.

The people in the room barely noticed these details, so caught up were they in the scene taking place in front of them in the mirror.

There were very few dry eyes in the room when the sun finally emerged and, the eyes that were dry, were lowered to the floor in shame.

Though the Queen had weeped quite vocally and the King’s manservant had sniffled through most of the night, it was the King that cried the most, though he did so silently. His eyes were still wet in the morning and not all the tear tracks on his cheeks were dry.

But, for the first time in his life, Arthur wasn’t ashamed of his tears. He didn’t believe he deserved the liberty after what he had witnessed. He didn’t bother wiping at his face. Let his people see his shame. He deserved far worse.

He hated himself.

He hated his father. He hated the people who had lied to him. He hated his legacy. He hated the fate that had brought him here. He hated the sorcerers who had solidified his mistaken beliefs.

But, most of all, he hated himself.

He hated himself for every innocent life he had taken.

He hated himself for being gullible enough to fall for the lies he had been fed since birth.

He hated himself for being innocent enough to ever think it was right to murder someone without any evidence of fault because of his father’s word.

He surveyed the people around him, his gut twisting painfully at how familiar his manservant’s pained and his physician's blank expressions were.

Quietly, not wanting to be the one to break the silence but knowing he had to, he stood up, his face solemn.

“With all of you present,” he started, his voice gravelly as every eye turned to him, “I vow to free innocents like the ones we have watched tonight and do my utmost best to uphold my sacred duty to them and protect and help them in any way possible.”

Small smiles appeared on his manservant and his Queen’s faces, disappearing just as quickly as they had come.

“In return,” he continued, “I hope all of you will swear honesty to me, even if you might think it was for my own interests. You have seen tonight what happens when you keep secrets from me. I am not the average person. My actions do not just affect me or those immediately close to me, physical or otherwise.

“Instead, my actions affect every single life in the kingdom, as you have just observed. Two children were made orphans because of me. A little girl had never been in the sun for her entire life because of me. A little boy had to give up his life to take care of his family because of me. Two children were just torn apart from the only family of theirs  _ I  _ had left alive  _ because of me _ .”

Fresh, hot tears were rolling down the King’s cheeks, and his weren’t the only ones.

“So I hope you all learned your lessons about honesty. I hope all of you learned about the consequences about your choices. I will not forget my sins and I will not shift due blame on others but you all had a hand in the deaths, the  _ slaughter _ , of more than one entire race.  _ All of you _ .

His eyes now mostly focused on his manservant, though few noticed as their eyes were still turned to the floor.

“That being said… I’m sorry.”

His manservant’s wasn’t the only head that snapped toward him.

“I’m sorry I failed you. All of you. I’m sorry that you believed I was the kind of person who would, not only condone, but carry out the slaughter of innocents. I obviously did something or acted some way that made you believe that. So… I’m sorry.”

He again turned to his manservant, who’s eyes were filled with years of pain and grief and loss and shame… but also reluctant, long forgotten, hope.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t worthy of your trust. I promise you I will be better. I will try my hardest to earn it.”

The familiar sounds of the guards dragging someone to the throne room disrupted the almost eerie silence of the entire night.

Everyone in the room finally wiped their eyes.

The King drew his shoulders back and stood tall and proud, looking every bit the great king that he was.

“Council dismissed,” he stated, reverting back to his ‘King voice’, as his manservant always called it.

“I believe I have two siblings to reunite and a few thousand apologies to make and I think you all need the rest, especially you.” 

He turned towards the sorcerer. 

“Thank you,” he said. “You have done your King and your kingdom a great service. It will not be forgotten.”

The sorcerer bowed and, for once, it was heartfelt.

Everyone but the King, the Queen, and the King’s manservant moved to leave.

“Oh, and Merlin,” the King called in a suspiciously overly casual way. “I think we need to have a long,  _ long  _ talk after this.”

Said manservant turned paler than the bright side of the moon.

**Author's Note:**

> Reviews and comments would be appreciated!


End file.
